John Watson Likes to be Teased
by lavaignited
Summary: John and Sherlock have a go at it, and the talk gets pretty saucy. Johnlock. Sexually graphic!


"Sherlock," John whispered sleepily, draping his arms around his pensive lover's naked chest, who sat wearily at the edge of their bed. He rested his head gently on his shoulder, closing his heavy eyes and reveling in the warmth of Sherlock's body. "Too early to be working, Sherlock…" he muttered quietly into his neck. John's words were hot on Sherlock's skin; so sensual in their simplicity that it made the detective's heart beat faster. In return, he pulled back just enough to give his lover a kiss, and move his hand to cover John's. The kiss lingered long enough to suit the slow-motion pace of the morning until the two at last separated, exchanging a long and blissful look. All the while Sherlock toyed ever so subtly with John's fingers; threatening to entwine them with his own, but for now simply feeling around.

"John…" Sherlock spoke at last, his kaleidoscope eyes glistening euphorically. The deep, gravelly nature of Sherlock's baritone voice filled John with desire. Sherlock had the sexiest morning instrument of anyone he'd ever been with. Sherlock shot him a suspicious glance, his mouth curving into a devilish half-smile in acknowledgement of John's lust. He inched his face even closer to John's and glided his free hand mere inches away from his throbbing cock, intent on torturing him. Since John had taken him as a lover, Sherlock had noticed a lot about what made him tick.

John's parted lips began to tremble as a quiet, choked sound escaped his mouth. Sherlock narrowed his eyes, pressing his forehead to John's; closing in on his space until hardly any air was left between them as he very deliberately moved his fingers along John's upper thigh. He flattened his hand, gliding it towards John's member as he slowly moved his mouth towards John's, kissing him and gently biting his lip. John's kissing became more and more aggressive and he moved his hand to Sherlock's neck, running his fingers through the ends of his dark curls. His lips travelled down Sherlock's jawline and down his neck. Sherlock tilted his head to comply, letting out an unabashed moan as John began to work his magic on his pressure points… Sherlock finally rewarded him by moving his hand to John's cock, slowly working up and down the shaft. John groaned loudly, clutching Sherlock's shoulders.

Sherlock felt his own cock getting hard as he watched John become more and more aroused; his breathing heavy and his eyelids fluttering. _John wanted him. _There was nothing more satisfying than that. He licked his lips and the steady motion of his hand intensified.

One thing that Sherlock had noticed in his time as John's lover was that unlike his stoic real-life persona, John Watson liked to be dominated and defeated in bed. John Watson liked to be teased. He roughly threw John down, all the while pleasuring him as he sank into the mattress whose coils responded noisily to the rumble. He lowered his face to John's chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat against his forehead and almost hearing the blood pumping. He rose once more, staring into John's eyes with brutal determination as he kept his hand firmly upon his torso to maintain balance. John gasped as he buried his head into the bed.

"You like this." Sherlock calmly deduced, inferring from John's response that he was doing well. John had once told him that he loved a spontaneous lover, though a man as cerebral as Sherlock was unlikely to abandon his constant flow of thoughts for sex. Sex, in Sherlock's mind, was a game to be meticulously played and strategically won; though some aspects of his game were weak as of yet. He hadn't quite gotten a grip on dirty talk. John opened a single eye in apparent annoyance at Sherlock's comment.

"Yeah." John breathed, before his face restored its bliss.

"You like when I do this." Sherlock replied dully with great concentration, not picking up on John's disapproval. John opted to ignore him, hoping he'd stop. Then, Sherlock moved his lips to John's ear. While aroused by the heat his steady breathing gave off, he dreaded that what Sherlock was about to say might make him laugh, which would prove disastrous to the detective's confidence.

Then, from forth Sherlock's technical brain and out his lips came a whisper that almost instantly finished John. He groaned loudly as he released, struggling to catch his breath, feeling his muscles relaxing and his lover taking his proper place in his arms. He was absolutely elated, ecstatic.

As they lay there together, Sherlock grinned with satisfaction. He kissed John gently on the cheek to compensate for the roughness of what had just happened in their bed. He had known that the words were mathematically guaranteed to achieve the desired result. They played in John's mind over and over again; the softness of the delivery and the sensual nature of the little grunt Sherlock had added at the end. His heart still raced just thinking about it.

"Maybe later…" Sherlock had whispered; "I'll go over to the store… and pick up the _milk._"


End file.
